


Isabela's Present

by Oh_Shiny



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Awkward Hawke (Hawkward), Dragon Age Kink Meme, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fenris Is Blunt, Humor, Isabela Is A Sweety, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1615907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Shiny/pseuds/Oh_Shiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela buys F!Hawke Thedas' analogue to the Kama Sutra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dragon Age Kink Meme. 
> 
> Original Prompt:
> 
> So its Hawke's birthday and Isabela buys her a naughty present, namely a book of sexual positions (basically Thedas' answer to the Kama Sutra) The pirate strongly believes in having a healthy sexual relationship with your partner and being open to new things (Its act 3 after Fenris and Hawke get back together and being the wonderful woman she is, Isabela thinks it'll be good for Fenris and his healing process after Danarius) but Hawke gets a little embarrassed and hides it in her room.
> 
> A few days later she finds Fenris in her room, reading the book rather intently. Not even bothered by her presence, he carries on reading, unembarrassed. Turns out he's marked the pages with bookmarks and suggests they try a few.
> 
> Cue smuttttttt/fluff whatever you choose whilst the couple become more confident with each other.

“Twenty… twenty se-seven,” Marian sighed, her mouth forming into an ‘o’ as she worked her jaw from side to side. 

 

 _Twenty seven. Twenty seven. Twenty seven._ The two words replayed over and over again through her mind, her lips soundlessly moving along with the chant. She pouted. Twenty seven! When in the void did this happen? She stepped closer to the looking glass and fingered the skin at the corner of her eyes, stretching out the fine lines that had started to form there over the last couple of years. Twenty seven. Her forehead hit the glass with a thud, her eyes fluttering closed as another pout graced her lips.

 

“Hey there, pretty girl.”

 

Marian suppressed a moan. Really, the pirates timing was impeccable. Of course, the Maker would deem it necessary for Isabela to feel the need to bring her bountiful bust around for a visit right in the middle of her bout of self loathing. She loved the rogue, dearly, she really did. But sometimes she just wanted to punch her right in the face. Marian pushed away from the looking glass and slowly turned, forcing a half hearted smile when she met Isabela’s eyes.

 

“Oh, little bird. Why so blue?” the pirate asked.

 

“I’m getting old, Bela.”

 

Isabela let out a throaty laugh at Marian’s words while pulling her in for a hug. “Sweet thing, you are far from old! Definitely still a delicious little morsel.”

 

Marian lifted her head from where Isabela had forced it to rest against her breasts. “A delicious little morsel?” she asked, her tone lightly laced with doubt.

 

“Of course. Are you blind? The way Fenris looks at you... he would bend you over a table in the middle of the Hanged Man to stake his claim if you’d allow it.”

 

Marian giggled; she could imagine the scowl Fenris would shoot in Isabela’s direction if he was here. Her elf didn’t take kindly to Isabela insinuating things about their sex life. Although, Marian secretly appreciated it. She could admit that her sexual knowledge was rather… limited, and if Isabela wanted to assume that her sex life was full of thrills, well then, assume away was her motto.

 

Isabela pulled away from Marian but took her hands in her own and led her over to the bed so they could sit. Well, Marian sat. Isabela reclined back to rest on her forearms, her left leg crossing over her right as she glanced down at her cleavage with a small smile on her lips.

 

“So. How are things with you and that incredibly sexy elf anyway?”

 

Marian looked down at her lap and started to pick at a loose thread she found there. “Um, fine, I guess,” she muttered.

 

“Fine? You guess?”

 

“We’re just, you know, taking it one day at a time.”

 

Isabela lazily lolled her head to face Marian and raised an eyebrow. “Andrastes saturated knickers, Hawke; the two of you have  _fucked_  since reconciling, right?”

 

Marian winced a little at the emphasis Isabela put on the word ‘fucked’. “Yes, of course we have!” She replied defensively.

 

“No, no, sweetling. I didn’t ask if you’d made love. I asked if you had  _fucked_. Two completely different things.”

 

Marian crossed her arms under her breasts, turned her nose up in the air and said, “I fuck,” in a haughty tone. Isabela chuckled.

 

“No, Hawke, you don’t. If you did, there wouldn’t be a big bubble of sexual tension surrounding you and Fenris. You have three years to catch up on. Making love just isn’t going to cut it.” Isabela sat up then and turned her body towards Marian. “You both need it. Nothing strengthens a relationship more than trust, and what better way to build that trust by completely opening yourselves up to each other in private. Or public, which ever takes your fancy.”

 

Marian studied Isabela with a suspicious eye before finally giving in, letting out a huff of breath. “Fine, what do you suggest?”

 

Isabela clapped her hands together in glee before pulling out a book from… Wait, where did she even store something like that on her person? Marian gave the pirate a quick once over from head to toe. Nope, she had no idea where Isabela could possibly keep it.

 

“So, happy birthday!” The book was shoved firmly into Marian’s hands, an expectant smile plastered on Isabela’s face.

 

Marian looked down at the book. How very odd, there was no title embossed on the rich brown leather cover. She brought the book up to her face and gave it a small sniff; her actions resulting in an arched eyebrow from her friend. Marian shrugged her shoulders. “What? I like the smell of books.”

 

“Yes, well, open it.” Isabela leaned in; eyes bright with excitement and Marian complied, flipping the book open part way through.

 

She felt her face flood with warmth before her brain had even fully comprehended what she was looking at. Her mouth fell open and Marian quickly snapped the book shut. That was, that was… Marian felt a small tingle of arousal in the bottom of her stomach as her cheeks heated even more. Gah, her skin was probably blending into the red of her hair by now.

 

She took a deep breath and reopened the book, slowly turning page after page, then brought her eyes up from the very detailed illustrations to meet Isabela’s. “Maker, Bela. I’m a Mage, not a bloody contortionist! The Two Legged Mabari?” Marian turned a page. “The Qunari Horn Holder?” Another page. “And look at this one, is that even possible? A penis doesn’t even bend that way!”

 

“Well that one I haven’t personally tried. Haven’t yet found a man game enough. A shame, really.” Marian shut the book, brought it up to her chest and crossed her arms over it, clutching it to her body. Her brown eyes big and wide, she stared at the pirate without blinking.

 

“You’ve got a lithe little body, and you’re tiny. Fenris could pick you up, raise you up above his head and lob you a good distance if he was so inclined to do so. He will have no trouble supporting your weight.”

 

“I… I…” Marian stumbled over her words, and then turned pleading eyes on Isabela.

 

“Oh, sweetling.” She tucked some loose strands of Marian’s hair behind her ear. “Trust me; it would do the both of you a world of good. At least give it some serious consideration?” Marian bit her bottom lip and gave a dumb nod as Isabela gave her thigh a small, encouraging pat.

 

“Good girl. Now I think it’s time we made our way down to the Hanged Man. Maybe you will get shit faced enough to break that bad boy out tonight with Fenris.”

 

Marian gave a nervous giggle and stood to follow Isabela out of her bedroom but was promptly stopped by the pirate at the door. “Are you going to bring that with you?” She nodded at the book Marian still held to her chest.

 

“Oh, uh yes. No! No. I mean, noooooo.”

 

Marian hurriedly shoved the book into a chest that sat beside her armoire, then made her way down to the entrance hall where Isabela awaited her.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will most likely be the last, but it will be smut-tastic =)

Marian rubbed at her eyes until the post sleep bleariness eased. She stretched, fingers interlocked and arms pulled taught above her head as her gaze flicked around the room. She could see the back of his head, resting against the feathered mattress at the end of the bed. Stifling a yawn, she then smiled before wiggling out from beneath the covers and begun to crawl towards Fenris.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked, an arm looping around his shoulders, eyes closed and her face nuzzling into fine, soft strands of pale hair.

 

“Reading.”

 

Marian popped her eyes open and let her gaze drop down to Fenris’ lap. He had become such a bookworm ever since she had taught him how to read.

 

She squawked, then mentally battled between slapping a hand over her mouth, and fighting to the death to retrieve that wonderfully, erotic book. It seems fighting to the death was going to win out. Marian pushed up from the bed and propelled her body to the floor only to land in an unceremonious heap beside Fenris.

 

He arched his eyebrows at her, watching as Marian seemed to nonchalantly smooth her hair back from her face, yet didn’t move from the awkward tangle of limbs she'd made.

 

“Um, so… can I please have the book?”

 

He brought his hand to her face and traced the line of her jaw with the rough pad of his finger, then turned back to the book. “No.”

 

Marian huffed but watched silently as Fenris folded the corner of the page he was currently studying before flipping it over to the next illustration.

 

“What _are_ you doing?” Marian asked as she finally moved into a sitting position.

 

“Marking pages,” Fenris stated dryly.

 

“Why?”

 

He turned back to Marian, his brows crinkling together. “For future reference.”

 

Marian blushed and lent forward a little to peek at the current page. “I am assuming, Marian, that since you have the book in your possession that you were planning on using it.”

 

She straightened and folded her arms, her cheeks still warm and a little embarrassed that Fenris had found her birthday present. “And how, exactly, did you come to find it?” she asked.

 

Fenris went back to perusing as he spoke. “It was in my chest.”

 

“No. It. Was. Not.”

 

Fenris frowned. “Yes. It. Was,” he mimicked. “It was in the chest beside your armoire—” he pointed with his index finger “—the chest you insisted I have for spare clothes for when I spend the night.  _My. Chest._ ”

 

“Oh, right. Well, there’s no need to be so correct about it.” Marian glared at him before looking away and mumbling under her breath, “bloody know it all.”

 

Fenris bit down on his bottom lip, trying to suppress his smile then cleared his throat. “So, are there any that you are partial to?”

 

“Huh? Oh, uh, I haven’t really had a chance to look yet.”

 

Marian squirmed closer and rested her chin on Fenris’ shoulder, hiding her face from his view as she peered down at the book.

 

“You do—” Fenris paused, hesitating slightly with his question “—I mean to say,  _are_  you interested in trying some?”

 

Marian glanced up at her elf; he certainly seemed interested in trying a few, maybe even more than a few. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek, mulling her answer over until she realized how long she had been silent for, and that Fenris’ chest was no longer rising and falling with his intake of breath.

 

“I think that yes, I would like to try—” Fenris exhaled discreetly “—as long as you don’t scamper for the hills if it all turns out terribly.”

 

Fenris adjusted the position of his head so he could narrow his eyes at her. “What? Too soon?” She asked.

 

“Has anyone ever told you that your sense of humor is horrible?”

 

Marian gave him a small quirk of her lips. “Carver always said that I was better at being the butt of the joke, rather than the one telling it.”

 

Fenris grunted. “Wisest thing I’ve ever heard come from his mouth.”

 

Marian pouted then gently bit into his shoulder. “Hey, be nice. Or this—” she tapped at the book “—isn’t going to happen.”

 

Fenris smirked and they both turned their eyes back to the book.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a long time, eh? I do apologise for keeping everyone waiting. Life got majorly in the way and still is, but I'm determined to finish up all my incomplete fics. Hope you enjoy this new/revised chapter. :)

**_The Two Legged Mabari:_ ** _Give in to your baser instincts and mount your partner from behind while you both take pleasure in this tried and true favourite among the Ferelden nobility. With both hands planted on the ground, direct your partner’s body up to where you kneel on the bed, keeping their legs held high at your sides._

**_Expert Tip #1:_ ** _If you or your lover are hesitant with trying something new, then we suggest a full body massage beforehand to help relax._

**_Expert Tip #2:_ ** _Want to spice things up even more? Take delight in a few swats to what we are sure is a delectable derriere while it’s up in the air._

Marian let out a whimper as Fenris rubbed the tip of his cock over her clit. Maker, when had he become such a tease? Her hand inched forward along the flagstone, the thin sheet of Antivan massage oil that slicked her skin making it all the more harder to keep her hands in place. She lifted her head, craned her neck to look at the elf on his knees behind her and gave him a wide-eyed, pleading stare. He grinned back at her, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling as his fingers dug into the pale flesh at her thighs, his grip tightening. Marian dropped her head back down, the blood rushing back in again and making her ears pound with the furious beating of her heart.

Then he was pushing into her, the hard length of his cock filling her until the sharp lines of his hips pressed firmly against her ass. Marian moaned low in her throat at the exquisite feel of him inside of her and she pushed back against him as her calves stiffened on either side of his hips, her arms trembling with the effort it took to keep her upper-body off the floor. Fenris pulled from her slowly, rotating his hips until only the head of his cock was left inside her warmth. He moved a hand from her thigh, brushed fingertips along the curve of her side before plunging back into her, pulling her towards him with each languorous thrust into the tight cavern of her cunt as she trembled beneath him.

Marian’s right hand crept forward even more as Fenris begun to push into her forcefully. Her thought process became incoherent, her mind hazed with the light-headedness that came with having her head tilted down for too long. She grappled for purchase on the frame of the bed while Fenris snaked a hand between her legs to find the hard bundle of nerves that made her whole body jolt with bliss as he circled it with the pad of a finger.  
  
“Do you like that?”  
  
Her response came out as a throaty grown and his tantalizing hand left the slick heat of her folds long enough to deliver a tingling slap to both her ass cheeks.  
  
“Answer me,” Fenris demanded in a growl.  
  
Marian moaned a small “yes,” and both of Fenris’ hands went back to gripping her thighs as he started to pound into her, the smacking sound of skin on skin filling her ears. Her left hand slipped, and Marian felt a small bloom of panic blossom in her chest as she tried to direct her hand back towards her body. Her arm shook, was becoming weak and Fenris thrust his cock hard enough inside her cunt for her to lurch forward. She could see it happening, playing out in the clouded fog of her mind seconds before her hand once again slid forward and her arm stretched out before her.  
  
“Fenris…”  
  
He pushed into her again and Marian lost any semblance of stability she had as her arm completely gave way, she tumbled forward and her face smashed into the brutally hard floor.

 

* * *

 

She was naked, facing Fenris and sitting between his bent legs. Blood still made a light trickle from her nose as he cupped her face in his hands and gently turned her head from side to side.  
  
“Are you sure it’s straight?” she asked.  
  
Fenris gave her a small smile. “Positive.”  
  
Marian raised a hand to her face, a pale green glow dancing along her fingers as she touched them to her nose. She kept her eyes on him, waiting for the wince of disapproval that never came and she smiled to herself, feeling almost silly for thinking that he would still harbour abhorrence for _her_ magic. There was a dull crack and pain lanced through the cartilage of her nose and up along the curve of her skull. Fenris’ fingers twitched against her jaw then smoothed loose strands of hair behind her ears, the glow of her healing magic starting to dissipate into small flickers before seeping back into her skin.

“At least the massage was nice, right?” she asked hopefully.  
  
He chuckled and brought the hand she had used to heal herself to his mouth. Brushing his lips along the ridge of knuckles, his throat vibrated with the hum of approval he gave at the taste of her against his lips. 

 

* * *

 

 

Isabela sighed contentedly as she entered The Hanged Man, even as a wave of stale ale and day old piss hit her face on she couldn’t help but feel at home. The usual degenerates and low life scum that filtered in by midday were littered around the main room, liquid dribbling off chins that trailed down from lips that had become numb after a morning of hard drinking. It was the usual scene; what wasn’t in the norm was the pretty red-haired mage that sat in a corner alone nursing a bottle of—Isabela squinted—whiskey, while glaring at any inebriated man that came within touching distance.

“Sweetling!” The pirate slinked over to her much loved friend while grinning from ear to ear. “I heard you and Fenris had a….interesting night.”

She plopped down into the rickety wooden chair next to Marian and helped herself to what she was sure was a very expensive vintage of booze. Marian may have not drunk very often but when she did, she made sure to ply herself with the good stuff.

“Interesting? It was a disaster, Bela.”

Maybe disaster was a little too dramatic but still, if this is what it took to “fuck” then she’d much rather stick to making love. What was wrong with just making love, anyway? She and Fenris both derived great pleasure from it and they were satisfied, weren’t they?

“Oh, I don’t like that tone of voice. You sound like you’re giving up.” Isabela sipped at her drink while peering over the rim of the glass.

“My nose was broken,” Marian stated irritably.

“An unfortunate hiccup.”

“Fenris’ nose was broken.”

Carver turning up at Fenris’ mansion was not at all expected. Carver punching Fenris in the face in some sense of misplaced revenge was not expected. Fenris refraining himself from not delivering great bodily harm to her brother was definitely not expected. So, maybe disaster was an apt word for the situation.

“A hilarious hiccup.” The pirate grinned, her eyes twinkling.

“How is my younger brother punching my lover in the face because he thought he had intentionally hit me hilarious?” Marian pouted, and frowned, and took a large gulp of whiskey before deciding to drown her embarrassment in liquor and chugged the remainder of the liquid down until there wasn’t a single drop left in her glass.

“Because his face! Maker, the look on Carver’s face when he found out—from you—that it was from having sex would have been priceless! I wish I could have been there, I really do.”

Marian snorted. “According to brother dearest, sisters do not have sex. Nor do they have a vagina or nipples—breasts, but not nipples.”

“Your brother is odd.” The rogue chuckled, then straightened up in her chair and gave her friend a pointed look. “But, to the matter at hand. I refuse to let you give up. Now let us see….” She trailed off as she started counting what Marian assumed to be different positions on her fingers.

“Well, there is the _Andrastrian Prayer Circle…._ no—that requires multiple partners. Hmm, unless…” Isabela wagged her eyebrows at Marian suggestively.

“No, absolutely not!”

“Spoil sport. Honestly, it’s like trying to give direction to a chantry sister. But then there was that one ex-sister in Denerim with the Warden—she knew how to get into it.”

“I’m not really sure if I want to know.”

“How did you become such a prude?”

“I’m not a prude! Mother was just very strict when it came to decorum.” Marian justified.

“Decorum is boring, Hawke, and for stuffy old ladies that are far too past their prime to be getting it jammed up them anyway.”

The mage blanched a little. “That doesn’t create the most pleasant picture in my head,” she said, then with a frustrated breath Marian folded her arms across the table and let her head drop to rest upon them. “It really shouldn’t be this difficult, should it?”

“I suppose not, but maybe it just isn’t for you. Or maybe….maybe there is too much thought going into it all. Maybe it is something that needs to happen naturally.” Isabela nodded her head, certain that that was the key to it all.


End file.
